With A Single Stroke Of A Brush
by xlilslayerx
Summary: Germany is being plagued with dreams of his past but cannot comprehend just who that beautiful young girl dancing through his mind is. Will he finally learn the truth? Hinted GermanyxItaly and ChibitaliaxHRE (One Shot)


Beginnings are always different. Where we are, who we are, where we stand in this clouded world; all of which can be answered uniquely. I could never answer those questions, however. My memories were shattered long before I could stop it. But yet, I still wonder about what I could have been before my reminiscences were stolen from me. Was I a great man? Was I loved? Who knows just exactly what I was like? Who was I? I may never know the answers to these questions.

But, is my conscious trying to reach out to me? Through a dream; a bittersweet dream. A young, beautiful girl in a mint green dress; I can see her laugh so pleasantly. She's full of life. As she laughs, she sings with her amiable pitch and cutely smiles. So stunning. All she is doing is wrapping her tiny, delicate hands around the elongated broom handle and swiftly dancing around the humongous room as she cleans, but still I can feel my heart race just at her loving presence. Who was she? I feel as if I had seen her somewhere before, but no name crossed my mind; no name for the ground I stood upon, no name for even myself. Could she see me? I want to talk to her... could she answer my questions?

Her white bandanna covered over her gorgeous brown locks, but as she turned and faced where I stood, her fringe sparkled as it framed over her astonishing features like a mother gently cupping her child in an affectionate embrace. I couldn't escape from her. Although I longed to see her, to hold her, I felt as if I was no good for her. I needed to be stronger. She gasped in delight, letting her paint scarlet across my cheeks. Her mouth moved, but her voice was fuzzy, I couldn't hear her. Stepping towards me, she brought the brush over with her. She continued to speak, but only a faint sound could be heard.

Every now and again, I can hear her voice. But, why was the unsoiled white room suddenly darkening around us. The kind grin she wore was dropping slowly with each passing second until I was left heartbroken at the sight of her forming tears.

"I miss you..." She cried. I didn't want to see this but nothing could stop it from happening. Her hands were tight around the broom as she whimpered desperately, "Here, take this. Maybe, it will help you think about me. A-And then, you won't forget about me." She held out the keepsake broom quivering, hoping for the person before her to take it. She obviously meant something to me, and I could tell that she was someone that I never wanted to forget. But why did it happen? I heard a name escape my lips as I stepped towards her. What was her name; I couldn't hear myself.

"_Sì__, grazie_, I would be honoured to have your push-broom." I spoke. There was a horrible ball in my parched throat as my eyes threatened to spill in despair. I didn't want to leave her.

"I-I feel like I should give you something too." I carried on, staring straight to her with longing eyes, "What do people in your home when they like someone?"

"U-Um... Kiss, I think." She answered me. My heart skipped over and over as it raced in my chest. My mind was somenly focused on only her, but my memories of her were left blank as I tried to think.

"Kiss? I see." Nothing was going to break me from this; I was at my happiest and saddest moment as I began leaning into her space, my eyes not once tearing from the strengthening bond we shared, "I've liked you for a very long time; it's been since at least the 10th century!"

Our time took us both in a heartbreaking goodbye, letting us share just our last part together in a tender kiss of nothing but love for each other. Relief was washing over me now that I had finally said exactly what was in my heart. Finally we parted but she never broke away our hands, just staring at me astonished.

"Oh... really?" That was all she could master, but it was more than she ever needed to say for me to know what she felt for me too.

"Yes, really; I wouldn't lie to you." There was no way I ever could. Her dazzled face passed and she let out a warm smile.

"Yay! That's happy!" My own grin spread over my lips soothingly. I know this was the perfect way for us to say goodbye; and when we meet again, I would do everything to keep that glowing smile on her forever more.

"Well, I'm off. Be careful. When this war ends, I promise I'll come and see you again." I want to see her so much. I don't know what war this was, nor how long ago, but I do know that I broke that promise, no matter how I look at it. I want to see her again.

"Okay then, I'll miss you! I'll be waiting! I'll make you lots of treats for when you get back!"

This is the last time I see her. My eyes shoot open and I find myself lying awake in my normal bed, my eyes swelling with sadness. I wouldn't cry though. I haven't cried for as long as I can remember. Although... my memory only goes so far. The darkness of my bedroom reminds me of my earliest true memory. Whether or not that dream was legit, the one from that faithful meeting was the one I recall best.

My robes were torn with nothing but black and red to enter my unfocused orbs. I couldn't run; there was too much pain from my back for me to go too far. Where was I? Who was I? This was the day these questions had first broken through to me. There was blood dripping harshly down my forehead and into my gasping mouth where I tried desperately to keep myself breathing. I could feel the icy metal of a knife pierce through me. The traumatizing agony of the blade was what allowed me to become the man I was today. I had to press on. I don't know where I'm going, or what I would do when I get there, but I had to go. However, no matter how far I could will myself to move, the numbness of the icy winter night coupling with my atypical blood loss was dragging me down into the snowy depths of my fate. Was I going to die here?

It was no use. My legs gave way and I fell heavily onto the frozen ground, my blood staining the fallen snow, tainting its innocent white with the deathly crimson of an attempted murder. No longer could my limbs obey my orders; only my eye lids kept on fighting as a figure shadowed over my imprecise gaze. The frame of black made me only think of that nameless girl with the green dress. It looks like she's running to me, trying to care for my wounds. She's speaking, but again, I cannot hear her.

I opened my eyes once again. My wounds did not hurt anymore, and my limbs were responsive but wrapped up tightly in a crowd of bandages. I had been saved by someone. All I can see around me is the gentle flicker of a candle from inside a humble shed that I had been placed in; one that revealed a strange person beside me. Having only a diminutive amount of room to stay in, my saviour waited on the side of my bed with his arms crossed loosely and his snow white hair wildly brushing over a pair of striking red eyes.

"Awake finally?" He asked. I didn't answer him something that didn't need to be. Pulling myself up, I searched around for something familiar, yet nothing seemed to be of any similarity.

"You must be a country if you were walking around alone like that, but who attacked you? I mean, there is a war right now but no one should have attacked you without reason." The older man tapped his finger on his burly arm while he waited for me to answer, but I couldn't.

"I-I don't know..." Was all I could master. The elder one sighed annoyed.

"Well, do you at least know your name?" I racked my brain for an answer, but yet again nothing would come to me. I shook my head, receiving a shocked glance off of my redeemer.

"Great, so the awesome me have to care for an unknown? There's a war and I have to watch another back..." He mumbled to himself tiredly. It didn't seem like he was a bad person; he just didn't seem like the type to take in new people.

"Thank you for saving me." Suddenly his mumbles came to a halt and he turned back to me with a lesser annoyed gaze, more a sympathetic look.

"It's alright. Even someone as awesome as me couldn't just invade a new country when their down like that."

"As awesome as you?"

"Yes, I am the awesome Prussia! There's no one more awesome than me!" He bellowed out in laughter, making my head hurt a little from where the wound was still healing over. Already I could tell he was a narcissist. However, he was a good guy; he healed a country which may have even been the enemy without a second thought rather than invading. After a while, his chuckles dropped into nothing and he uncrossed his arms, placing a large hand onto my hurting head.

"Since I'm such an awesome guy, I'm gonna let you stay here for a while. I'll take care of you until you can remember who you are. Hell, you may as well call me big brother!" His hand drifted from my head an down back to his side, letting him lean a little closer in, "If the worst comes to it, we'll just give you a new name; one that can be awesome like mine."

The memory shed and I'm left staring back at the ceiling of my room. Prussia gave me the name after a few days passed, and never had I remembered my real name. All those years that had passed me, yet I was still being swallowed by the pain my heart fell into every night. I needed to find out who that girl was; she would probably have all the answers I needed.

* * *

After a few hours of pondering, I realized that time had flew passed, making it six o'clock already; time to get up and start the morning exercise routine. However, I can't focus. That image of the snowy pathway stained with so much blood haunted my mind uncharacteristically. It was the only time in my life where blood had me feeling queasy, and that feeling didn't want to leave me just yet. I'll start with two hundred sit ups to get me awake, just nice and light to begin with then I'll start the actual warm up. Hopefully, the events of the day will jog my memory out of the distressing memoirs and focus more on keeping Italy at bay. That's right; Italy was heading over today to help me sort out an old storage room filled with vintage items of little to no value or use. It was going to become brother Prussia's new room, so it needed to be sorted out quickly. What I don't understand, however, is why Prussia isn't going to help. Then again, he and Italy would both be lazy nuisances anyway. Italy decided by himself to come over and 'help', but I did try to convince him otherwise. No anvil. I guess it wouldn't be too bad; some company in these strangely lonely days is a welcoming presence. Also, Italy did cook good food.

With my exercises complete, showered and dressed, I feel as if breakfast is in order; _Bauernfrühstück_ perhaps. It wasn't the usual breakfast I stuck to, but I felt the need for a slight change today. After all, it is going to be an extremely long day. Thankfully, Prussia had stayed out last night and probably wouldn't be back until tomorrow. Where he was I had no idea, but I didn't really care either.

"Ludwig~!" My name was sung obnoxiously. I wonder who it is...

I turned around and faced the beaming Italian. His face glowed so brightly that it made me wonder if he had ever felt any sort of negative emotions before.

"Italy, how did you get in? All my doors are locked!" How many times have I asked this question now?

"Come on, Ludwig, we're not in a war or meeting, so call me Feliciano!" My hands were gripped by his much smaller ones as he spoke. I pulled them away strongly, but it occurred to me just how feminine his touch felt when he grabbed my hands. It also felt strangely familiar to something. I'm probably over-thinking about it.

"I would rather just call you Italy." There was no problem with him calling me Ludwig, or any problem with the name Feliciano; it was just an underlying reason that even I couldn't comprehend.

* * *

After some small talk over breakfast, Italy piped up with his usual bubbly personality and danced along the corridor towards the old storage room at the end of my hallway.

"So, what sort of things are you planning on keeping?" He asked, making sure not to get rid of anything important.

"Well, I'm not sure; I haven't been in this room for a long while so I do not remember what exactly is in there. If something looks like it's important, then just ask."

"Okay!" Italy did a slight salute to me with his left hand, keeping his carefree smile gracefully over his features. It was very eccentric, but Italy's grin did brighten me up ever so slightly. Maybe I'm just used to his ways by now.

"Italy, you salute with your right hand." I corrected him. Quickly, he switched over with a minor giggle, and then carried on his way towards the dusty mature room. He pushed open the door and brought a forgotten world back out into the light.

"Wow, there's so much junk here!" Italy gasped. Still he jumped into the time portal and let his curiosity make the most out of the hidden treasures. With 'what's this' and 'where's this from' hitting me every five seconds, I realized to myself that this was going to take much longer than I had originally hoped it would.

We dug deep through the strange items, finding all sorts of items of both my and Prussia's younger years, such as toys, old weapons, books and some collectable items from other countries. One of Prussia's jackets was also in here, but it had been torn right from the crotch for some odd reason. I didn't want to think about why, so didn't.

"Hey... Ludwig?" Italy stood right behind me, but I didn't turn to answer him.

"What is it?"

"Is... This something treasured, by any chance?" Italy wasn't hyper for once, but aberrantly mellow in his tone, almost as if he is in some sort of nervous state. I turned around to see just what he is holding; a very dirty wooden push-broom. Wait, a push-broom? Was... Was that the same one as the one the girl had given me in my dream? How did Italy know it was treasured?

"It's just a broom, Italy. But, it is one that I have to hold on to." I didn't want Italy asking questions about it. Although, him standing there, clutching it tightly to his body like he had be clutching an extraordinarily dear item to him is something that seems to bother me. Déjà vu was something I hated, so why was I seeing it with Italy and that broom?

"Oh." Italy's curl dropped slightly with his short answer. Almost like I had destroyed some sort of false hope he had for something, he gently placed it back to the corner of the room.

We continued our sorting without a word of conversation. For some reason, I feel awkward about that whole broom situation, but why? It's probably that dream, that's all. Finally, I started moving towards the back of the room, picking up useless items on my way and throwing them into a quickly filling black bag. But something under all that rubble of rubbish, there was a peculiar entity which grasped my eyes effectively. I pulled it out, wiping off the dusty layer that hid away the secrets of the object. After a few seconds of wiping down, the image that gazed back at me made me jump back in fright.

"Ludwig, are you alright?" I'm quickly aided to by the pasta-loving idiot as he dropped to one knee beside my lowered body. I scanned him over for a long while, and then fastly lunged for the item that caused my scene.

It was a canvas. A single normal acrylic painted canvas. It is what's on the canvas that made my head spin in confusion. There was a young, beautiful girl in a mint green dress and a white bandana on her dark brown hair, bringing the maid look onto her features perfectly. However, something that bothered me was the one single, large curl that broke free from the bandana and away from the neat fringe of her delicate, sleeping face. She slept silently, showing an adorable smile on her lips with the slightest blush over her cheeks as the lighting of the painting made her seem almost real. If I had found this canvas another time, I probably wouldn't have been able to see it.

I turned slowly to Italy again, every now and again studying him and comparing the canvas.

"Italy...!" I breathed just scarcely. He just stared back at me, waiting patiently for the words to escape my lips. Nothing could be said, however. My silent questions voiced themselves to Italy inaudibly.

And he smiled. Not a wide, insufferable grin, but a gentle, loving smile.

"Welcome back, Holy Rome, I waited... just like I promised."

**This probably could have gone better but... I hope you liked it anyway. Thank you so much for reading!**

**-xlilslayerx-**


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